You'd think that when you are among 300 bikes on a ride, you will make it to the end. Not.
Our local memorial ride last weekend had about 300 bikes, 400 people, and I was somewhere in the middle. The only Versys, perhaps that made a difference.
We set off down the highway and stopped after a half hour at a local pub. So far, so good, except nobody told the pub that there would be hundreds of people there for a half hour. They had two bar staff and a queue 300 bikes long.
Then off again. Back onto the highway, divert to a link road, onto the motorway. The destination was somewhere northwards, and I didn't know the area so I just followed the group I got in with among the motorway traffic.
We left the motorway, heading into the hills. Somebody turned off, two of them. I followed the leaders. Somebody else turned off. We took a left at a country intersection, somebody stopped. OK, he's the marker, I thought.
Steadily, everybody turned off until I could see the leaders up there in the traffic as we entered a town, then they got lost. It was now me who was lost.
I asked directions on how to get to some place I'd never heard of until that morning. I followed the directions, but needed to ask again a little later. This was not working.
The upshot was that I had a nice ride by myself for the next hour or so as I made my way home. And while everybody else was feasting up on BBQ sausages, I ended up with a cheese sandwich and falling asleep in front of the TV for the afternoon.
Just another day here in Dr.Shifty-land.